Strange Comfort
by Martin Baker
Summary: What f Antony and Lucy shared more than a few words beneath Johanna's Window?


Her touch hurt. Everything hurt as I struggled to rise. She crouched next to me, dabbing at my mouth with a grubby handkerchief. "Thanks mum," I said automatically. My mind still re-lived the two strange men's assult. One came at me with words and another with blows for nothing more than looking at a pretty girl in a window.

The woman beside me must have been pretty once. Her gap-toothed smile was warm if a little absent, and her far-away eyes were the same shade as those of the girl. Johanna, she had called her. Such a beautiful name. The woman leaned closer, looking at me strangely. "Howd you like to push me parsley? It looks to me, dear like you've got plenty there to push." I stared. She stood and turned to walk away.

"Wait." I took hold of her wrist. "I have a room not far from here." I knew it was stupid. There was no end to the disease this woman could be carrying. I knew it was wrong as well. Taking advantage of one with slow whits was wrong in the eyes of God and man. Still, it had been a long time atsea, and I had just set eyes on the most exquisite creature I HAD EVER seen. I needed release, needed it from someone with Johanna's eyes. I could see stragley yellow hair beneath her bonnet as well.

We continued in this way, I holding her by the left wrist and she shuffling a little behind me. People stared. I paid them no mind, feeling only a little self-concious as I unlocked the front door to the boarding house where I was staying. The land lady was out. I ushered The woman through the door and up the rickety wooden stairs. Someday, I meant to fix them, but that day had not yet come. My room was at the top of the house. My bed sat on one wall across from the small wordrobe. My trunk sat open at the foot of the bed where I'd left it that morning. She flopped gracelessly on to the bed, pulling her dress up around her waist. I could see she wore no knickers. I hesitated. She spread her thighs wide, writhing on the coverlet. "Come on, Saillor boy! Whatcha waitin' for?" She smelled of swet and unwash. I thought again of disease. It hhad been such a long time. I think that fact alone is what pushed me over the edge.

Impatient, she sat up. "Saillor Boy decided not to have a go with Lucy after all then," she said absently.

"Lucy?" I blinked. It never occurred to me this creature had a name, and with this fact, the realization that she had a story as wellcame in to my mind. "That's your name, isn't it?" She didn't anser, making her slow way to the door. I placed my hands on her shoulders and spun her to face me. "We are going to do this," I told her. "I can see that you need it, and it's been a long time for me as well but…" She pulled her dress up again, grinding her sex against the front of my pants. I pushed her back gently, keeping hold of her. "But," I persisted "we're going to do it my way. I'm going to wash you." I realized how offensive that might have seemed, though she showed no sign of offence. "I have a fettish with washing,' I explained quickly, just in case.

I set a pot of water on the fire to boil. The fireplace was very small, nestled between the wordrobe and a straight-backed chair the land lady had put in upon my arrival. I had set logs in the fire the night before, so all I had to do was light a match. I was glad of this as I turned back to the woman. She watched me curiously as I reached for her dress and pulled it over her head. It felll to the flor, along with the over-large bonnet she wore. Her hair was indeed yellow as wheat in summer. It fell past her waist in tangles, bits of leaves clinging to it. I slid my hands behind her neck, feeling the weight of her hair as it fell over them in a heavy curtain.

"NO!" She wrenched out of my grasp, her eyes wide and terrified. "Lucy won't let you! I kept it long for Ben all this time, I did. You won't cut it!"

"I don't want to cut your hair," I re-assured. "Ben's a lucky man. It's very pretty." She relaxed a little. I took a cautious step toward her. She turned back to me, running her hands up under my shirt and squeezing the muscles of my back. I sat in the chair, pulling her onto my lap.

"Sailor Boy likes to wash?" she asked. I nodded. "Saillor Boy is very strong."

"Lucy has hands like ice," I told her. She smiled, laying her head on my shoulder. I stroked the side of her face, and she smiled against my fingertips. It must have been only a couple minutes, but it seemed we stayed like that for a long time. At last, she stood, and I went to check on the water. It was warm enough, and I took the pan off the fire and set it on the floor.

"Lay down," I told her. I reached for soap and a rag which I kept on a shelf in my wardrobe. She lay down on the bed, and I dipped the rag in the water. Covering it with suds from the bar of soap, I began by washing her feet. She sighed as I washed the dirt out of the cracks in the tough skin there, massaging as I rinced. Moving slowly up her legs, I was surprised to see how pale the flesh was. With all the dirt caked on her skin, it looked a soft shade of brown. I ran the rag over her sex, washing first the little bands of flesh that separated her sex from her thighs. Tears made tracks in the dirt on her face as I opened her sex with my fingers, washing gently. "Am I hurting you?" I asked.

She shook, pulling the rag from my hand with both of hers and throwing it hard against the wall. "No more washing, Saillor Bboy! Get to it!"

I had intended to wash her completely, hair and all, but the sight of her misery was too much for me. I unfastened my trousers, letting them fall with her dress and bonnet on the floor. Her hand grasped me almost painfully, squeezing and caressing as I removed my jacket and shirt. I climbed onto the bed, being lead as I was by my sex, to kneel between her open legs. I caressed her thighs, running my fingertips over her sex and drawing circles on her stomach. Her rapt blue gaze bore in to me as her little hands found my hips. She tried to pull me down. I ssmiled, pushing her brests up to kiss the undersides. They were lush and high with rosy nipples that hardened under my lips. I suckled first one, then the other, the tip of my penis teasing at the warm wet folds of her vagina.

She rose to meet me like the sea, impaling herself on my throbbing erection. I drove into her with a will, and her inner walls clung to me. She moaned, raking her fingernails down my back. Blood ran from the scratches, but I was beyond such small details. Lucy had wrapped her legs around me. I could feel her blistered lips planting feather light kisses along my jawline. I turned my head, catching her lips in a demanding kiss. This cast-away,this sunken parody of Johanna was everything to me now. Her sighs were the wind, her burning flesh the very earth as we saw our mutual passion to the brink of madness. I came, rocked by her orgasm. I looked down at her flushed face.

She grinned, eyes sparkling. "I haven't had it like that since…" her face screwed up in thought.

"Since Ben?" I offered.

She nodded, looking at me quizzically. "You know ben?"

"No, I'm afraid not," I told her. "And if I did, I'd knock his block off for making you live on the street."

"Shhh." She put a finger to my lips. "Benjamin's got it worse'n me, livin' in Australia."

"I have a friend who escaped from there," I said thoughtfully. "Mr. Todd. Maybe he knows Ben. I'll ask him."

But she was asleep and didn't answer. Stil holding her, still inside her, I rolled onto my side, taking her with me. She sighed, nestling down in the sheets and burrowing her face into my chest. For a moment, it was Johanna I held in my arms, but then the image faded, and it was Lucy again. I didn't know it yet, but lucy with her far-away eyes and deeply passionate core had captivated me.


End file.
